Please submit original Alumni prose to our WebMaster.

This is an open letter to all the people who worked or grew up at The Children's Home. 

I know there is someone out there reading this that wants to get in touch with someone he or she once knew.
But you may think; I was just too mean">

Please submit original Alumni prose to our WebMaster. This is an open letter to all the people who worked or grew up at The Children's Home.  I know there is someone out there reading this that wants to get in touch with someone he or she once knew. But you may think; I was just too mean, or nobody cared about me, or I did such bad things nobody would want to hear from me!  Well, you're wrong!  We were all kids trying to grow up without our families, and we all know kids will be kids. You and I are "all grown up" now and there's probably a friend that would just love to say, "I'm sorry", or "How are you doing?", or "I sure would like to see you again!"  Well this is the place. Go ahead and send that e-mail or pickup that phone or write that letter and get in touch with your Home FAMILY! We love you, ALL of you!!! Anonymous Alumni Home It's where we were brought to live, to stay. Most of us weren't asked if we wanted it that way. And most didn't understand the "Why?" of it, on their very first day. For most of us, it was "just the way things had to be." But, with time, we learned to work and we learned to play. We learned to can and we learned how to get in the hay. We learned to work together towards a common goal when we played ball. We learned, with time, that it wasn't so bad, after all. And we learned many more things as well. Like the right way to escort a girl along the street to Norfleet. Like why it is wrong to harm others. And, just why did God give his Son away? We learned to live with each other every day and we grew strong. We sang together, our very own song. And although we left each other at different times,     to go away to different places,     for many of us, we still sing that song in our hearts. And although many of us probably think of how it might have been different,     it wasn't. So we still, to this very day, proudly call our home, "The Home". Ric Walker, Jr. (1969L) A Day at the Children's Home circa 1968 From Debbie Belk's Journal 6:30 am Get up. Wash face and hands, get dressed. 6:40 am Breakfast: usually eggs, sausage, bacon, cereal, toast and lots of ice cold milk real butter and homemade jelly 7:00 am Work: My job this year is at the Admin Building cleaning offices, do hall, wash out mops, finish up 7:30 am Clean room - get ready for school 8:00 am Start for school 8:15 am Classes start --------------------------------- 3:00 pm Schools out 3:10 pm Home, eat apple, get dressed for work 3:20 pm Work: clean, clean, clean 3:45 pm To the Rec. or the piano 5:15 pm Get cleaned up for supper 5:30 pm Supper: Always a big meal...lots of ice cold milk....everything raised on the home 6:00 pm Free time 7:00 pm Study Hall: sometimes in a group, sometimes in the room. 9:00 pm Get ready for next day 10:00 pm Bed A Real Day at the Children's Home 6:30 am Roll out of bed (usually pulled out by Paula) 6:45 am Breakfast. Grope down the stairs rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Collapse on the last six steps waiting for Homemother to come in and brightly say "Hello everybody - lot's of work to do". Pull pajama legs up under half zipped dress and sleep walk into the dining room. Watch the eggs turn icy and the butter make the toast soggy as the Homemother makes a complete "and another thing girls" list of the days jobs. Lots of ice cold milk. 7:00 am Work. Still tugging at the pajama bottoms, make your way to work. Argue with the instructor, finally agree to do the same thing you did yesterday, but vow not to tomorrow - again. Sneak out the door and run home. 7:30 am Pull covers over the pillow, throw shoes, coats, dresses, and pajama bottoms into bottom of closet. Then look for something to wear to school. Finally get your turn at the toilet seat and get rid of all the pressures of the morning. 8:00 am Start the long haul up the hill to school. Reach the top puffing and huffing, but not managing to blow the stupid school down.   8:15 am Push your way to class ------------------------------------------------ 3:00 p.m. Schools out.   3:10 pm Home first so you can press all the apples before anyone else so you get the hardest. Steal your mail so Homemother can't stop you about your room. 3:20 pm Work. Clean, Clean, Clean, (fuss), (fuss), (fuss). 3:45 pm Walk up to the Wreck. It's closed. Walk home to play piano. Everyone hates the piano player. 5:15 pm Line up for supper. Oops , forgot to wash my hands...... 5:30 pm Supper. Food!!! Let me at it. Choke down firsts to get seconds and discover someone's faster. Same great milk. The ice has melted though since breakfast. It's been a hot day. 6:00 pm Free time. Catch up on the good gossip. Eat the hotdog you hid under your sweater after supper. Scrape off the chili, it's kinda messy now. 7:00 pm Study hall Write letters, try new make-up, listen to radio, file fingernails, look at Geometry - give up. visit in other peoples room, tell Homemother they needed your help in Trigonometry. 9:00 pm Rush to shower so you'll get the one with the water coming down - not out. Someone still quicker. Dry hair, ring out bath mat, and put on pajamas (this time the one's with short legs). 10:00 pm Bed Turn out lights, laugh and cut up till 11pm Hear Homemother coming. Tell her you were talking in you sleep. You'll try not to do it again. 6:30 am Roll out of bed (usually pulled out by Paula)............................... CONNECTION It's finally come... The day is here... To leave The Home! We've promised to write... We've promised to meet again, to stay in touch... No matter where we roam. All is new... All is strange... This world away from The Home. The months go by, the time, it just flies... The calls become more infrequent... All the moving around, I guess. Lost numbers... New addresses... Years are lost to us. A chance meeting! Great joy at a call! More promises of contact, but, no. Where did everybody go? Why don't they write or call? Can't find anyone anymore! Didn't we have such a good time? At the Home. Ric Walker, Jr. (1969L) THE SHADED LIGHT OF CHRISTMAS The shaded light of Christmas, With the angels drawing near, Reminds me of the Christ child Shedding his first tear. The air is calm, the star shines bright. The shepherds come to see The Christ child they heard about In far off lands beyond the sea. The three kings silently approach The birthplace - this manger stall They gather around to worship Him with reverence and with awe. In the shaded light of Christmas Mary and Joseph shift around, To make room for all the people That come from country or far off town. In the shaded light of Christmas Let us open our heart's door wide And ask the blessed Savior To come and dwell inside. Bucky Hooker, Eight Grade Home Chronicle, December 1966 THE SNOW LAY ON THE GROUND Snow is laying on the hill. The night is quiet, all is still. Children lying in their beds, With nestled bodies and sleepy heads. They'll soon be skating on a lake, Or snowy ground, when they awake. Hurry get up, it's six o'clock. Look! It's snowing, it still hasn't stopped. The land is bright and so are they. Won't you please help me find my lost sleigh? They play and play until it's quite dark. All are sleeping, they've made their mark. Snow is laying on the hill, The night is quiet, and all is still. Sherry Fulp, Seventh Grade Home Chronicle, March 1968 WAR OF ALL WARS Our boys are fighting in Viet Nam. Fighting for freedom of all people. Our boys are dying for a cause, But the protesters believe it has flaws. The draft card burners are quick to ask, Why this has to be our task? They're telling the Secretary of Defense, That leaving Asia would make sense. I don't believe in this conflict, But our fighting men don't want to be licked. Herman Britt, Seventh Grade Home Chronicle, March 1968 FALLING SNOW Did you see the snowflakes falling O'er all the town last night? The houses are in snowy blankets, And all the land is white. It fell softly and silently Drifting through the skies. Though all the town is sleeping, They'll wake to a crystal suprise. They arise to look out the door, To spy a fairylike cover, Which is over the town at this time of year And is setn by our Heavenly Father. Kathy Hooker, Seventh Grade Home Chronicle, March 1968 "Where Do Great Kids Come From?"   Well, here I am...on this campus so grand... Seems like I've come to a faraway land... "Good morning, Ms. Carter, nice meeting you, too." I can tell already, "mind those P's & Q's"... The house was so huge, I felt so alone. Up the stairs we went, to see my new home. So many beds all in one room! So many "bowl" haircuts! And 'All' neatly groomed. Alone, I was not...So many in sight! And busy we stayed from morning 'til night. "Go see Ms. Graham after counting your clothes." "...2 of this, 4 of that...don't need these, I suppose." Butler's Shoe Store, here we come... "40% off? Boy, that's quite a big sum!!!" Hey, I've got a job! In the kitchen, no less... Sue Smith and Ms. Essick won't tolerate no mess! Our mentors worked hard in leading us forth. Coach Gibson and Dunnigan, Bowers, Nifong and North. Nurse Annie Smith and Ms. Feimster, too, Were always around to 'take care' of you. Ms. Harrelson and us, in the hot laundry room, Burgers and Pop most Fridays at noon! Ms. Dinkins was stern and went straight by the book. But once in Home Ec, what a wonderful cook! In Science or the Cannery, Mr. Harmon was strict as could be. But when it came to the Arts, a different man I did see. Weaving and plaster, wood-working, too, He shared so much knowledge, and his sincerity was true. Mr. Edwards in Math told a story one day, How a 'cootie' "saved a Soldier by biting him!, they say"... "He was standing in a fox hole when the "cootie" chomped down, When the bomb exploded, he had stooped underground." A great Mentor was Bill as Principal and "Boss". For me there's been no greater loss... Ms. Weaver, so sweet with her long-flowing hair, Always supporting and never unfair. Ringing that cow bell, "Good-night!", she'd say... And in the mornings, The Upper Room started our day. Dear Jess and Mrs. White, at Stockton I met, Would "sneak" us off campus and show no regret. In summer, on the porch, we shared "quality" time... Shelling bushels of beans, one at a time!!! Reverend and Mrs. Chamblee, on Sundays were there. She bought one of my crafts, a blue ribbon, it bear. On Wednesdays we met for MYF... What a great way to build on one's self. The Cagles were nice, the whole family. They supported each other, the way families should be. Cruising around, when we'd all gone to bed, We knew with the "Blue Goose", we had nothing to dread. Of course, exceptions there always would be, If you "slipped out at night" and got "caught" like me! Every month like clock work, Mr. Clary we'd see, "Honorarium for you and your savings...10% for Thee." The Rec and the Gym, we swarmed in like bees. Had a lot of fun doing pretty much as we pleased. Always a game, I'd get hoarse every time! "Push 'em back, push 'em back, Down the line!" Barry Frye watched over us as we swam in the pool. ...I know I was blessed, I'm not a fool... So many faces, swirling 'round in my head, "Where are they now? What lives have they led?" Too many to mention, but none forgot... You were all my salvation and I love you a lot... Together again, we're slowly becoming... I hope to see YOU at the next Homecoming!!! ~In remembrance and appreciation~ by Vickie Needham Spainhour (1969L)

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